The Prayer
by Hakujou Kage Masurao
Summary: Bwahahahaha, Just when you thought you were safe. Um, yea. >.> So anyway, here's my fic. Please read it, and don't be afraid to criticize me...just no outrageously critical flames. Au revoir.


Here goes, my first fic in...uh....damn...let's just say it's been a really long time. Ok, let's go through the basics...

  
  


I DO NOT OWN GUILTY GEAR X

IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY ANY PART OF THIS STORY, I DIDN'T TRY TO DO IT. DON'T SUE ME, I'M WHITE AND POOR. .

  
  


With that said, let's get on with the fic, shall we?

  
  


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The church was enveloped in silence and darkness. The sun had drifted below the canopy of the trees surrounding the building, and was replaced with the crater-riddled moon. Well, there was one light - a small lamp burning inside the church, in front of the statue of god. The light flickered a little, reflecting off the large panes of stained glass that lined the stone walls. Inside, a man was kneeling, one hand grasping a crucifix around his neck, and another resting on the handle of his sword. He wore an elegant cloak that spread out along the ground, white as the purest snow with trim that could easily be mistaken for a blue sea. He brushed some blonde hair from his face and looked up at the statue, then rose from his kneeling position. "It's finally over," he muttered, slipping the crucifix back into his shirt and looking down at the ground and closing his eyes.   
  


The last few years had been hard. All throughout the Crusades, the warrior lead the Sacred Order of Holy Knights, the Seikishidan, into battle against the demonic gears and their leader, Gear 01 Justice. Then, the tournaments that followed Justice's imprisonment were just as terrible. Criminals were allowed to fight, even children. So many lost through the years...Even though he was said to have saved billions of lives, there were still millions that were lost. He wept a little, thinking about the pain of growing up surrounded by death and pain. The blood. The screaming. The dead, mangled bodies. The pleas for mercy that went unheard by those damnable creatures. The Gears. He dried his tears with his sleeve and growled as he heard snickering behind him. Only one person could be so disrespectful. "Sol."

  
  


He turned to face the man behind him. Sol was also someone went through the Crusades and the tournaments, but didn't show any sympathy for those killed. He simply peered back with his usual stoic gaze. His eyes were what frightened many people. One of his eyes was red. Blood red. Although it looked otherwise the same as a human's, it still frightened people. And the other. His other eye was gold. Not human. It's pupil was feral, resembling that of the dominant male in a pack of lions. It sent shivers up his spine whenever he saw Sol's eyes. His neck was huge, and so were his muscles, defined almost to the point of being grotesque. "Ky."

  
  


They stared at each other for a moment, neither's eyes wavering or trembling. Sol finally ended the staring contest by pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and casually lighting one, taking a long drag from it. "Those will kill you, Sol," Ky scowled. Sol shrugged and took another drag from it before letting it fall to the ground and stomping it, sending the small embers and ashes flying across the floor. "And you care, why...?" He asked casually. Ky smirked at the comment. "I don't."

  
  


"What are you doing here, you dog? This is a holy place. You're far from wanted." Sol frowned a little. "Aww, I'm hurt," he mocked as his lips curled into a smirk. "Is it so wrong to check up on a old friend every now and then?" Ky growled. "You're far from a friend. And I know you better than that. We did fight together in a war, you know." Sol shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Yeah, we did. We also almost died. You're a bad leader, boy - you ask for too much." Ky growled again and clutched at the sword by his side beneath his cloak. Sol sighed and shook his head. "Tsk tsk. You have quite a temper, kid. But, since you're so eager to fight..." He said, grasping the handle of the sword at his side, "LETS!"

  
  


Ky leaped into the air as Sol unsheathed the massive sword and swung the blade, sending a wave of fire outward as it cut through the air. Ky unsheathed his own sword and came crashing back down to the ground, attempting to ram it into Sol's chest. The attempt failed, as Sol dove to the side and Ky slammed the blade into the ground, sending sparks up and out along the tile floor. He ripped the sword up from the floor and swung wildly at Sol, who jumped to his feet and held his own up to block the attack. A hideous screech was released as the weapons slammed into each other, sparks and embers flying everywhere. Sol smirked as the crucifix slid from inside the collar of his cloak and flew forward, only to be yanked back by the chain it was connected to. "I see you still blindly believe in your god."

  
  


Ky back-flipped into the air and swung the sword hard downward, making a wave of thunder fly forward and ram Sol to the ground. He winced and stood slowly, then growled up at Ky as his feral eye's pupil retracted. He let out an unholy roar and leaped up, surrounding his sword's blade in fire. Ky's eyes widened as Sol swung and hit, tearing through his robe, burning him, and nearly cutting to the bone. He clutched at the wound and fell to the ground, slamming into and through one of the many pews. Sol continued his assault and flew down at him, slamming the blade two inches from Ky's face. He winced at the heat and looked up in shock at Sol, glaring down at him in rage. In desperation, he rammed his fist into Sol's abdomen and pushed him away, then kicked up to his feet and winced again at the gaping wound as the air danced over, around, and into it. 

  
  


His pure white and blue cloak, now several shades of red, was tattered and torn. Ky finally charged forward and swung at Sol again, catching him in the face and sending him flying again. Sol flipped over and kicked off the wall, flying back to where his sword was, and pulled it from the ground. "If it were not for Fuenken, Sol, you would be dead right now." Sol smirked and popped his neck. "And if it were not for Furaiken, you'd've been dead in the Crusades. May I remind you that I didn't steal this little trinket until after the war?" Ky ran forward, cloak flapping, and leaped into the air in another attempt to strike Sol down for above.

  
  


He blinked. He heard the sword tearing through flesh and bone, and then colliding with the floor, but didn't believe his eyes enough. He had indeed rammed Furaiken into Sol, and knocked him down to the ground. The blade crackled with electricity, and sizzled as the thunder came in contact with Sol's blood and limp body. Ky checked for a pulse warily, to be sure that Sol was gone. No pulse. He rose from his kneeling position and grasped his wound once more, still feeling the stinging pain it brought. He pulled his sword from Sol's chest and re-sheathed it, a tiny hint a smirk forming on his lips. "Goodbye, Rival," he stated, lifting the crucifix from around his neck and throwing it down onto Sol's lifeless body, almost mockingly. He turned to walk out of the church, satisfied. And then he felt something rip through his body. He looked down at the small beam of fire going through his chest, just shy of penetrating his heart. And then he heard that demonic laugh. The laugh of a gear. He looked over his shoulder weakly, spotting Sol. Not human. Gear. "Goodbye, Rival." Sol replied. Ky fell over to the floor, Furaiken sliding away. Sol grinned and turned his back to Ky, only to be frightened nearly out of him mind. The statue had sprouted wings. Real ones. A few feathers fell to the ground as Sol blinked, panicking. He turned to bolt out the door, when he realized something else had sprouted wings - Ky.

  
  


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Okay, so this isn't most politically correct GGX story, but I got really bored and wrote it, and figured I'd post. Mwahahaha. Erm. Anyway, Please review. Yeh, whatever. Au revoir.


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